by Cherry Adair
"He has a sister he raised himself when their parents were killed in a bus accident. Apparently they're very close, yet this is the first time anyone knew he had family. For obvious reasons he wouldn't want anyone to know of her existence. She's about to have her first baby and he's planned to visit her in the next couple of days."
"Unless we get to him first."
"Unless we get to him first," he agreed. "We're registered at the Auberge du Lac Hotel in Fayoum, where we'll arrive early this evening. I've arranged for a local to scout out scenic backdrops for our fashion-photo shoot for the next couple of days. The man's known as a talker. By the time we get there, everyone will be aware that a beautiful redheaded American model is in town."
"You're still not telling me what the—"
He cut her off and reached for the coffee. "Raazaq's sister lives in a village not far from there. He'll be one of the first people to find out about you. The temptation to meet you will draw him to one of our outdoor shoots. Or he might show up at the hotel. Either way, he'll ask you out. You'll go. Pick your opportunity carefully. You'll have only one shot at this. Once he's tipped to your real reason for being there, he'll be trying to take you out."
"I'm expected to walk up to him in front of witnesses and shoot him?"
"You're expected to do what you were sent here to do. Assassinate one of the world's most vicious terrorists. Shoot him. Poison him. Fuck him to death. Whatever it takes to do your job."
"Will I have poison?" AJ asked flatly.
"You will."
"Then two out of three can be considered options." She stood up and looked down at him. "Relax, superspy. I'm going to kill the little bastard, just like I said. Now, I'm off to take a nap. How long do I have? "
CHAPTER SIX
« ^ »
AJ sat on a silk-covered stool at the marble dressing table in the large, well-lit, and luxurious bathroom off her bedroom. Kane leaned against the sink counter, arms folded over his broad chest. Having a man—and such a large man, at that—in such an intimate space made it feel overcrowded and confining.
And damn it, she could smell him. It was a unique smell. Not soap, not cologne. Agents didn't use fragrance when they were on an op. It was the scent of his skin. How weird was that? She'd never been aware of a man's smell before. Pheromones. Being aware of what it was didn't make it less annoying. Distracting. Arousing.
"Smudge on a little more brown," Kane instructed. "Yeah. Like that. A little more undernea—no, more… Here, just give me that thing."
"Excuse me?"
"Lemme do it. You're not blending it right."
"Who're you, Max Factor?"
"Hand it over."
"I can do my own makeup."
He looked at her.
AJ sighed. "Here." She handed him the small eye shadow brush. "I've no doubt you can apply makeup better than I can. You certainly tend to wear more of it than I do."
She turned on the seat so he could apply the color himself. Kane stepped in front of her, his jean-clad groin at eye level, and about six inches away. A rush of sexual awareness washed over her. Jesus God. Her eyes shot to his face. It was impassive. Was it possible that he didn't feel anything? How could this attraction be so one-sided?
And what an effective way to keep her in her place, AJ thought with a small, self-deprecating smile.
One-sided or not, she had a mental flash of him on top of her. Bare sweaty skin to bare sweaty skin. She felt his weight, the slide of his hair-roughened leg along her smooth calf…
"Yo, Cooper. You paying attention?" he demanded, bending down to peer at her face.
She swallowed hard, then glared up at him, suddenly feeling antsy and cranky herself. Her insides felt like they were on speed. Damn it. It just didn't matter how hot he made her. She was not about to screw up her second chance at building a career by doing anything stupid. He already thought little enough of her as it was. She wasn't about to compound the feeling. "Yes. You're fascinating. But it's hot in here."
He'd been nit-picking her makeup application for the last fifteen minutes. Man, give a guy a little authority and it went straight to his head. She wanted to go. She'd slept for three hours, and awakened alert and ready for just about anything. They were already getting a late start—it was past two—so they'd be traveling in the worst heat of the day. "If you'd just let me do it myself, we could be out of here in a few minutes." She cocked her head and gave him a one-eyed glare. "Do I tell you how to shave?"
"A: If you could do it yourself, I wouldn't have to. And B: The day I need your help is the day—" He broke off.
"Can't finish that one, can you?" she challenged. It wasn't easy to maintain a one-eyed glare, but she gave it her best shot, as he had her other one closed. "Because you do need me. Even Command thinks so."
"Command doesn't know jack."
"That's loyal."
"That's honest." He took her chin and tilted up her face. "Open your eyes. Hold the pot and look up. And while you're at it, shut up." He stroked the tip of a brush through the shadow and layered it beneath her left eye in small, sure strokes. Dabbed and stroked again. Leaned back, checked out his handiwork, then started on her other eye.
"You can let go of my face. I can hold my own head still," AJ pointed out. His hand felt cool on her hot skin. He was looking at her hard enough to notice every pore. She hoped to hell he didn't count mind reading as one of his many talents. He dropped his hand and scrabbled around in the cosmetic bag beside him.
Her erect nipples rasped against the inside of her bra. She glanced down. Oh, this wasn't good. She was hot, bothered, and blatant. Thank God Kane was oblivious. Or he would be if he didn't glance down and see her body's response to his.
His warm, coffee-scented breath fanned her face. He was close enough for her to see the dark blue rings around his irises. Talk, she told herself. Keep him too busy to notice that you're panting like an idiot. "How do you know so much about applying a woman's makeup, anyway?"
His eyes narrowed as he inspected his handiwork. Apparently not satisfied, he reapplied the small brush to her lid. "It's all part of the art of disguise."
"So you don't moonlight on Broadway as a chorus girl."
"You're a laugh a minute. Cooper."
"Well, you do have great legs."
"You're still talking."
"Right." She almost nodded, then figured he'd put her eye out. "So, you studied and perfected it." His hundred-year-old man had been amazing. "I wish you'd teach me how you did the old guy look. It would be fascinating to live in that skin for a while."
"Wrong op. You look just like we need you to look for this one."
"I wanted to work for T-FLAC so I didn't have to use my appearance for my job."
"Then you're a fool," he told her. "Your appearance is not only an asset, it can be a weapon. Have you had any classes with Savage?"
"Not yet."
"Well, hold on to your hat," he told her, and AJ wondered if there was something going on between Kane and Savage. As soon as the thought wandered into her brain, her blood began to simmer. Kane kept talking, oblivious. "That woman'll show you moves you've never even considered. She uses every God-given attribute to her advantage. Most men think with their little heads. Keep them off balance enough and you can use it to drag them where you want like a pull toy."
"I figured that out already. I've been a girl a lot longer than you have."
"Trust me, I noticed. Here." He handed her a tube of mascara, keeping eye contact. "I imagine you can do this part unsupervised?"
"I don't know. Mom. Maybe you shouldn't leave me alone with this. I might poke my eye out." When he just frowned at her, she blew out a frustrated breath. "Thanks for the tips."
He went back to his perch, half sitting, half leaning on the marble counter beside her. At least she wasn't eye to eye with the Little General anymore.
Her breasts ached for the touch of his hands…
The image of their entwined naked bodies was starti
ng to make her sweat.
It was so vivid. So sharp. So damn real that she was revved up and wanting more, just thinking about it.
She jerked the mascara wand from the container and applied goop to her lashes in short, annoyed strokes.
Why did she always want to sneeze the second she'd applied mascara? "You know, all this crap is going to melt off the second I step out into that heat."
"I want you in character when we leave the hotel. And I want you to stay in character until your job is done. Sultry, and seductive. Bimbo with a brain. Not girl next door."
"Fine. Is this sultry enough for you?" She turned her face to glare at him and worked her lips into a guppy kiss, while batting her now completely gooped eyelashes. Did his lips just twitch? Nah.
He gave her a mild look. "You'll do." He leaned his butt against the sink and inspected her face as if it were the Holy Grail. "Yeah, you'll do just fine. We'll have air-conditioning in the car for a few hours at least. By the time we get to Fayoum it'll have cooled off a bit. Is your hair naturally curly?"
"Unfortunately, yes." She frowned. "Which is why I keep it long and braided. Otherwise I look like Orphan Annie. What about supplies?"
"Taken care of. Leave the hair loose when we leave. It'll be like a flashing neon sign telling Raazaq and his minions where you are." He stopped, cocked his head. "Is that what the 'A' stands for? Annie?"
"No. My hair will get full of sand and make my scalp itch." She met his stony face and caved. "Oh, okay. Fine. Loose it will be." She glanced at him for a moment. "Do we have a staff of elves or something?" She shot him an exasperated glance. "Who took care of obtaining our supplies?" Can we please get the hell out of this bathroom now?
"Our Cairo-based people. I checked everything while you slept. We're good to go. What does it stand for?" .
He was like a dog with a bone. And a small one, at that. "AJ."
He raised a brow. "Your parents christened you AJ?"
"Unfortunately, no. But that's what it is now. "
"You had it legally changed?"
"Yep." At thirteen, she had stood firm. Name change and she'd go back on the pageant circuit. No name change and she'd refuse to budge. She hadn't answered to any other name since. "You ready to go?"
Kane levered himself off the counter. "Here," he said, sounding cranky again. "Put them on." Temper flashed in his eyes as he handed her a pair of small gold hoop earrings. It was gone so quickly AJ thought she might've imagined it. Wow. Anyone who could control emotion like that was someone to tread lightly around.
"Each holds one dose of poison. One's for Raazaq. One's for you. Just in case."
Just in case Raazaq and his gang decided to do unspeakably painful things to her body. AJ shuddered and took the earrings from his outstretched hand. A zing of electricity charged up her arm when their skin brushed. Their eyes met. He frowned. Annoyed again.
"Will your face actually break if you smile?" she asked, muttering the question more out of frustration than in the hope of an answer. "What's wrong with you, anyway?" AJ demanded, getting crankier herself by the minute. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to control her moods as efficiently as he seemed to. It was like watching a blind come down over a window.
"Me?" He sounded surprised. "Not a damn thing."
She stopped him with her hand on his arm. "Right. Look, if you're cranky because I'm on the op, that's not my fault. Your superiors made the call. And if you're being a pain because I won't tell you my former name… then get over it."
His eyes narrowed with irritation. "Your name should be Angina."
"And yours should be Pain in the Ass." She huffed out a breath and leaned in to make her glare more impressive. "You don't know jack about when not to push a lady, do you?"
"You're too damn beautiful," he finished as if she hadn't spoken.
Okay, a few minutes ago, she'd been doing a lot of daydreaming about rolling in the sheets with this guy. But for some reason, hearing him call her beautiful didn't hit the right buttons. It went in the opposite direction. She'd been judged on her looks all her life, and damn it, she was sick and tired of it.
AJ's teeth ground together, "Well, excuse me all to hell," she shot back hotly. "It's a gene thing. It's not like I had anything to do with it! If I had, I'd have arranged to look like a mud fence so guys like you wouldn't think I didn't have two working brain cells to rub together. So if looking at me bothers you… Look at something else, for God's sake. The reason I'm here is to kill Raazaq."
"It'll work."
"Huh?"
"You. The beautiful thing. It'll work on Raazaq, and that's all that matters."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Look," she said, "if it'll help, pretend I'm a ninety-seven-year-old man under the makeup."
"Cooper, nobody's imagination is that good."
"Well, you're the great Kane Wright," she said, shoving past him to stomp out of the damn bathroom. "Find a way to make it work."
Kane hadn't said more than a dozen words in the hour since they'd left Cairo, and with another hour to go before they reached Fayoum, she'd be climbing the walls before then. The Hummer had excellent air-conditioning, but it was visibly hotter than hell outside the confines of their vehicle, and the sun was completely on her side of the car. Heat shimmered like water on the blacktop ahead of them. She wanted to strip off her too tight clothes, and jump into the mirage to cool off.
They were traveling south, parallel to the Nile. A wide swath of verdant green farmland stretched out on either side of the slow-moving river. Beyond its reach the dry barrenness of the desert appeared like a soft golden-brown blanket covering the world as far as the eye could see.
"Is it just me, or do you not communicate with humans?" AJ demanded, breaking the silence only because she could hear herself thinking.
"I'm not uncommunicative," Kane said mildly. "I'm meditative."
"Great. I'm teamed up with Ghandi."
He snorted a laugh and she cheered up a little. "Wow. Was that an actual reaction?"
"Don't press your luck."
"Quit meditating and talk to me, or I'll talk to you and you already know how good I am at that," she warned, and even while his gaze narrowed, she went on another rant—the kind that used to drive her brother, Gabriel, nuts. "So if you think about it, all of these planted fields probably look the same as they did three thousand years ago. Do you think the pharaohs used irrigation systems, or did they just beat small children until they cried enough to water the plants?" No response. Fine, she could keep this up all day. "Did you know that some people believe the pyramids were built by space aliens? It would explain a lot, but what do you think? Was it ancient astronauts, or were the Egyptians just really good architects, or—"
"Okay!" he snapped. "I surrender."
"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"
They passed a small collection of mud-brick houses. Children waved as they drove by.
"What're you feeling so chatty about?"
They were in the middle of nowhere. Straggly vegetation, date palms, and sand as far as the eye could see. "Have something else you'd like me to do while you drive?" AJ had several lascivious thoughts. She folded her arms across her chest and tried to imagine being immersed in ice cold water.
"It's not my job to keep you amused. Take a nap."
T-FLAC operatives were trained to sleep for as little as a couple of hours at a stretch and wake refreshed. This cycle allowed them to function on smaller amounts of sleep, allowing them to handle stress and pressure if they had to go thirty-six hours straight without sleep on an op.
Navy SEALs had nothing on T-FLAC's Hell Week. Which was fondly called Beyond Hell month. Of the recruits who made it through basic training, another 90 percent rang the bell after BHM.
AJ hadn't, though. She'd thrived on it. She'd made it through her class—despite the "incident." And she wouldn't lose her momentum now.
"I slept three hours. That's enough."
"You're a
restless sleeper."
"Wha—" She swung her head to look at him. "How do you know that?"
"Came in to ask you something. You were waging war on your pillow."
AJ felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought of Kane seeing her at her most vulnerable. "I have nightmares sometimes." Most of the time. Asleep and awake, she had nightmares. These days she had to be pretty damn exhausted to get any rest at all.
"Because of what happened?"
This was her fault. She'd wanted him to talk to her. Now that he had, of course, she wanted him to shut up. She didn't want to talk about what had happened. About the night sweats and the cold, shrieking terror that locked her muscles. She didn't want his sympathy. She didn't want him even knowing what had happened to her. But, of course, he did. Even if he hadn't heard of it, he would have looked up her service record before she'd come on the op.
The knowledge that he'd read her report made her cheeks burn hot. "I'm working through it. And I'll do my job. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it." And before he took satisfaction finding something that effectively shut her up, she changed the subject as fast as she could. "If I'm going to off Raazaq, what's your job now, since Escobar and Struben are out of the picture?" She bent to pick up the water bottle at her feet, uncapped it, and took a swig.
"I'm your spotter." He paused. "And your bodyguard for the duration."
"Snipers have spotters. They don't have bodyguards."
"Lucky you."
AJ bit her tongue. Yeah. Lucky her.
She turned in her seat to look at him. If the situation were different, she might consider making a play for him. Of course, she'd have to be crazy, but damn, he looked good. Realty good. Still, the situation wasn't different—he was her boss and she was the lowly rookie. She'd do well trying to keep her brain wrapped around the job at hand.
His shaggy dark hair looked silky to the touch. He was tanned, fit, and smelled so damn yummy, AJ was salivating. Just looking at his long-fingered hands made all her juices flow and her breasts tighten. His hands were relaxed on the steering wheel, large and limber, and his fingers cupped the hard plastic like a lover's…
